


Words Better Said

by RenaRoo



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Post-MTMTE #54
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 02:52:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7341652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenaRoo/pseuds/RenaRoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Vaguely post-MTMTE #54] Rewind and Chromedome made it through the Dying of the Light with what remains of the crew, but there are far too many words that are still left unsaid. Sometimes it has to be someone's job to say what, to everyone else, must be obvious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words Better Said

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiontales/gifts).



> Prompt from goodluckdetective: Everyone is miserable after the big battle. Many are dead. Domey is still recovering from revelations about his self worth. And those who are injured, mainly Cy and Tailgate who got beat up saving each other's asses, are sulking over words left unsaid. Rewind cannot solve most of those problems, but the last one? Well, he has some idea or Rewind plays matchmaker after the big battle with Cygate.

By the time Magnus emerged from the cockpit, Ratchet and Velocity had managed to pull each one of them into an orderly row based on severity of medical need, the worst of them on the few berths available on the small cruising class vessel. 

Given the events of the last twenty-four hours, Rewind tried to look at Chromedome’s place on the cot as a blessing when so many of them – so many of their closest friends, their _family_ – were gone. 

Those that could almost immediately gave Ultra Magnus their attention as he managed to fit himself through the medbay door. Everyone save Ratchet who was already at work on Ravage, undoing Velocity and his field patches to start actually fixing the Decepticon. 

“We’re fortunate,” Magnus informed them, “While the owners of this ship are from a planet that is a member of the Black Block Consortia, the captain is not on the… best of terms with their federation himself. He – or she, I’m not familiar with this species – are glad to take us to the next mechanized planet we can find where hopefully we will be able to transmit a Cybertronian signal.” 

Rewind caught himself recording before he ever realized it. With Chromedome on the table before him and every other move of his head being back to his conjunx, it wasn’t really something he wanted to record. 

Not these moments. Not like this. 

“As… unsavory as many of us may find some of these ship’s activities,” Ultra Magnus continued, the words seemingly causing him real pain, “it is fortunate for all of us that it has worked out this way. There’s a chance this will all be over for us soon.”

There was a quiet pause where the survivors – those of their crew who were damned with luck – waited to hear something. _Anything._

After a beat, Rewind looked around, his camera focusing on the subtle movement of Drift putting a hand on Rodimus’ shoulder as the former captain said with his chin balanced on his hands. 

Then, lowly, Rodimus said it. “We’ll make it through this,” he declared, rising to his pedes. “For every mech who sacrificed it all – for all of us who sacrificed what we could – we’ll carry on…” He walked toward Magnus, stopping as Drift followed. He looked back, but with no spark behind his words chanted it almost in spite. “Till all are one.”

Rewind stopped recording all together. 

* * *

Their travels were unsteady after that. Ratchet and Velocity worked their servos almost bare, never letting up on any patients they could. 

Everyone more or less coalesced, held each other as needed when the realization of what had happened became too overwhelming. And those that once held command of the Lost Light took stock – whispering and planning together on the next move. 

Rewind skipped out on almost all of those things, opting instead to wait by Chromedome, fitting his servo in his conjunx’s, squeezing whenever the flinching started. _Damn dreams._ Damn _memories._

As he sat there, Rewind flinched and squirmed. 

If it were him on the table, his Domey would not have moved, would not have ever looked away. Chromedome’s entire world would have been that seat by Rewind’s side. He knew this because on the Lost Light he had missed, this(his) Domey had done just that.

But Rewind struggled. Not with the commitment, not for a moment because his spark did not pound with worry for his beloved, but because he had to deal with the fact that they hadn’t talked about it yet. 

His choice. 

The choice Rewind _had_ to make because Chromedome honestly couldn’t see for himself what it was that Rewind thought he so obviously felt. 

It hurt to sit there because Rewind was an archivist. His mind was a library of thoughts and memories and neatly packed away reminders of every stupid choice, every dumb word he had made over the last several years. 

The case was laid out before him, in Rewind’s mind. And he couldn’t believe how stupid – how _selfish_ he seemed in hindsight. 

Of _course_ his conjunx had no concept of how much he was loved, how much he was needed. Not since their parallel realities aligned had Rewind made it apparent how boundless his love was for his Domey. 

And it made the energon flowing through him chill.

Rewind shuttered his optics and leaned forward until his helm was pressed into his conjunx’s shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry, Domey,” he whispered. “I don’t say it enough… but I love you. I love you and I’m sorry that something like this, moments like these, seem to be the only time I have enough words for it.”

When a moment had passed of silence, only the low humming of Chromedome’s vents giving him answer at all, Rewind felt a hand at his back. He glanced up to see Velocity’s paled but pleasant face offering him a gentle smile. 

“I’m sorry, Rewind, but I’m going to need you to move over for a while. I need to give Chromedome a work over–”

“Rewind, forget moving over, I have a job for you,” Ratchet barked, in a rush and barely looking up from a chart datapad he pulled from his subspace. “Get over to Tailgate and keep him from busting a hole through this ship. The supplies here are scrap as it is, I don’t need him ruining our ride and getting us thrown off by making the natives unhappy.”

Velocity, annoyed the instant Ratchet began talking, put her hands on her hips. “I believe Rewind would be more comfortable if we let him stay by his conjunx–”

“I want to stay with Chromedome,” Rewind spat out quickly, rising to his pedes and squeezing harder to his sparkmate’s servo. As if he didn’t know full well that _nothing_ altered the made up mind of the famous medic. 

“No, you want to hover and get in the way. That’s what the two of you _do_ when the other is on my slab,” Ratchet said with a digit pointed accusingly at Rewind. He then glanced dismissively toward Velocity. “Something you would know if you had the doctor-patient history with these two that I do.”

“I would have that if you left _any_ behavioral notes other than monosyllabic insults in your files,” Velocity argued back haughtily. “I would know, I read over them at least three times when _I_ was the Chief Medical Officer.”

“Well, you should’ve been able to remember it all in _one_ reading,” he countered.

Seeing that he was being left behind in the spat, Rewind tried to crawl back into his seat only for the motion to capture Ratchet’s attention again.

“Rewind, _go_ take care of Tailgate. Velocity and I need to work on Chromedome and you’re not going to like some of the things we have to do,” Ratchet growled. “I will _not_ let another patient be lost today, and I’m not taking the risk of you distracting us with sentimental nonsense! _Move it!”_

Velocity looked mortified. “Berthside manners!?” she asked critically.

They bickered, but the moment Rewind slipped aside, they moved in tandem. Arguing as they worked together with frightening speed and precision. 

For a moment, Rewind stood by, rubbing his arm and looking over the medics and his Domey with painful reluctance. But he stopped ad he realized he was doing just as Ratchet had complained – hovering – and slowly stepped aside.

The request involving Tailgate hadn’t even fully registered until Rewind finally ripped his optics away from Chromedome’s berth. Then he slowly began to take in the small but serviceable medbay of their rescue ship. 

There were so many of them that they crowded and cluttered every inch of the room, so many unwilling bots to move. So many that it became almost hard to remember that their numbers were nothing compared to that of the Lost Light’s full crew list, and less still than that of the number who originally landed on the Necrobot’s planet. 

His spark burned as me moved through the room, navigating mostly between others’ legs to check for signs of Tailgate. 

Rewind found them not far at all from the consistent clanging that grew louder the closer the archivist got. 

Tailgate was bouncing on his pedes, fists up, jabbing at and occasionally hitting the wall beside a berth. HIs fists left dents as easily as if he were hitting clay. 

On instinct, Rewind activated his camera. And for the first time since Chromedome’s latest collapse, Rewind could fully distract himself with intrigue and the pursuit of knowledge. 

His fellow minibot’s sudden and impressive spark mutation was something to behold, but it was an even stranger fact to see that Tailgate _wasn’t_ spending his time on this foreign ship talking someone’s audials into submission. In fact, he wasn’t speaking at all. 

Suddenly Rewind was hit with the worry that _this_ could only be brought on by his dear friend having a serious ailment. 

Quietly, Rewind came up behind Tailgate, head tilting. 

“Tailgate?” he asked, knowing better than to reach out, no matter how much he felt the urge. 

After a few more fists thrown into the wall, the former waste disposal bot turned around and looked with wide optics at Rewind. It was only then that the light flashes and tell-tale signs of anxiety and panic were fully visible on the other minibot’s face. 

“I think maybe we should try to do something other than hit the wall for a while,” Rewind offered gently. “It’s likely to upset the owners of this ship.”

“Oh,” Tailgate muttered before looking to the wall. “Do you think they’ll notice it?”

“Only a lot,” Rewind sighed back before finally daring to hold onto the other’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s find somewhere to sit. Especially if it’s far away from the damages so we can blame them on someone else.”

Tailgate gave a firm shake of his head. “No. I don’t think I can do that. I can’t go too far away. I’m…” the minibot trailed off and looked to the berth they were beside. The panic levels in his optics grew by leaps and bounds as they settled on Cyclonus. “No one else is here for him. And Ratchet _always_ takes care of Cyclonus last…”

Rewind looked down to his pedes and then to Chromedome’s berth. 

Whatever treatments they were giving his conjunx, they didn’t seem to have an ending anytime soon. 

Turning back to Tailgate, Rewind pulled the minibot toward the other side of Cyclonus. “Let’s get over here and sit for a while instead then. It’s further from the damages.” And further from the side of the flyer which was heavily dented from Overlord’s bootprint. 

“You always know what to say, Rewind,” Tailgate sniffed and huffed, choked up in his vocalizer. 

“No… No I don’t,” Rewind whispered in return.

* * *

The hours stretched into what felt like cycles and Rewind found himself wondering if there was time for old traditions. If it would even mean anything with so many harmed, with so many _dead._

But Rewind couldn’t help thinking that those others were not Domey. And he _hated_ that gut reaction. 

Still, Rewind never tore his optics away from Chromedome and the medics working tirelessly on him. At least not until Tailgate made such an obvious stir by his side that he didn’t have a choice. 

“Cyclonus!” Tailgate excitedly yelped, rising to his pedes by the berth. 

Rewind watched vigilantly as the purple mech on the table rose up slowly. Cyclonus held his right arm together with a heavy scowl set on his face – the one Rewind had a suspicion was his natural face, but seemed to bring the spark out in Tailgate’s optics when they saw each other. 

“You’re harmed,” Cyclonus said, cut and dry, one of his pointed claws aimed at a dent on Tailgate’s shoulder. 

Tailgate flinched before following the pointing claw. “Oh, that,” Tailgate replied before poking at its dent. “That’s not anything, Cyclonus. I’ll punch it later.”

“No,” Cyclonus said with a finality that was almost chilling to the surprised memory stick. “Have the medics check it. Make sure it’s not internal.”

“If I do, it won’t be until they finally get a look at you,” Tailgate replied strongly. 

Curious, Rewind watched as Tailgate nervously placed a servo on the edge of the berth. Cyclonus noticed it as well, his own servo flexing a few times, inching closer to Tailgate’s before coming to a complete stop. 

Exventing, Cyclonus put his hand back to his lap. 

“That may take some time,” Cyclonus warned Tailgate gently. 

“Oh,” Tailgate said, withdrawing his servo from the berth as well. “I don’t mind. I’m glad those who need it more are getting attention first.” The minibot gave a nervous glance toward Rewind and then across the medbay to Chromedome’s berth. “Like Chromedome.”

As both pair of optics began concentrating on Rewind, he was reminded of his curious proximity to what was probably the closest either Cyclonus or Tailgate could get to a private moment. 

“They’ve been working on Domey for a while,” Rewind explained. “They’ll get to the two of you soon.”

Cyclonus nodded stiffly before glancing away. “We are fortunate then.”

Rewind watched Ratchet and Velocity start up another argument, his optics narrowing. “Yeah,” he said, sliding off the seat he had been taking up. “Excuse me, I’ve got to stretch my legs.”

When he looked back, Rewind could see that Cyclonus and Tailgate were far from paying attention to him. The two mechs were sitting at arm’s length, faces turned to the other but otherwise silent. 

Here they were, awake and capable of talking, but far from taking the moment beyond its potential, and with so few distractions around for him to concentrate on outside of his conjunx on the slab, Rewind found it almost unbearable to resist getting involved. 

* * *

The time stretched even longer without Tailgate and Cyclonus to distract him. 

Rewind watched Chromedome and only had his records to look to beyond that. His spark felt weak, but at least with all the records dowloaded and taken from the Necrobot’s planet he could pretend to concentrate on something else. 

At least he could have until a vocalizer cleared behind him.

Turning, the minibot was almost surprised to see the former captain of the Lost Light behind him, looking a little worse for wear. 

“Rewind,” Rodimus said, voice more than a little apprehensive. “I’m checking up on everyone and… I’m just wondering how Chromedome was. I didn’t get to see him before we boarded the ship.”

For a moment, Rewind regarded Rodimus in silence, making the speedster squirm slightly under his gaze. Then, lowly, Rewind answered, “Ratchet and Velocity have been with him for a while. But I don’t think it’s from anything in the battle.”

Rodimus almost subconsciously reached up to the side of his faceplate and tenderly rubbed it. “Yeah… yeah,” he said. 

A flare of satisfaction reared up in Rewind and it took everything in him to duck his head back and look to Chromedome instead of snapping off with any other comment on the subject.

“Listen, Rewind,” Rodimus continued, surprising Rewind by not tucking tail and running. “I’ve had… _lots_ on my mind since this all started but… Probably nothing’s been louder in my head than what you said. And I just need you to know that I appreciate when I’m called on things.”

Rewind took in the words before turning his optics back on Rodimus. “No you don’t.”

For a moment, Rodimus seemed to consider arguing the pint but he exvented instead and looked to the memory stick. “You’re right, I don’t. I hate it. But I need it, and I _especially_ need it when I’ve been doing the wrong thing for far too long.”

There were several things that came to Rewind’s processor – cutting, biting things, the sorts of things that he realized must have been building up since the incident with the sparkeater at _least_ – but he also carried restraint he didn’t even realize he had. 

“Okay,” he said instead.

“And it’s not going to happen again,” Rodimus continued. “I won’t be overstepping or putting either of you in danger.”

Rewind didn’t mention that they weren’t a crew anymore, that Rodimus wasn’t really a leader. Because even if it was all true, it _wasn’t._ Not really. They would still follow their captain, they would still find a home as a crew whether it was on the Lost Light or not.

So instead, Rewind said the only thing he could. “Okay.”

Rodimus’ shoulders rose a bit with relief, his helm nodding to Rewind. He then rubbed awkwardly at his arm, forcing Rewind to realize for the first time that it was immobile and sparking as well – their leader not so untouched after all. “I’m still making the rounds. You know how anyone else is doing? You were with Slugger earlier…”

“Tailgate only has a dent,” Rewind explained. “He’s more worried about Cyclonus than anything else.”

“Huh,” Rodimus said, glancing toward their berth. “They have a strange relationship.”

Rewind glanced after them as well, watching as the two stiffly and silently sat beside each other, his camera turning on almost instinctively again. “No,” he corrected his captain gently. “Not really.”

* * *

Magnus and Rodimus had left to speak with their ride’s crew once more, in a rare display of the former making more of a show than the latter, but it was a good cover for Rewind to duck under everyone else and make his way back to the berth that seated Cyclonus. 

With his annoyance clear and his patience well worn thin by his lack of time with Chromedome in the recent cycle, Rewind cut to the chase as he pulled up onto the berth beside Cyclonus.

The more reserved mech arched back slightly, optics beadily staring at Rewind in surprise.

“Have you discussed this at _all_ yet?” Rewind demanded with a nod to Tailgate.

“We’ve been talking a lot since you left, Rewind,” the other minibot attempted to interject only for Rewind to hold up his servo.

“No, I mean have you guys discussed _each other_ yet?” Rewind asked. “And before either of you come up with an answer, I’m just going to let you know that when I’ve not been trying to compare surgical notes and theory from my archives with what Ratchet and Velocity are doing, I’ve been trained in on you two. So I know the answer already.”

Cyclonus’ intake pressed to a thin line and he crossed his arms. As if that was a language in and of itself. 

Which, for Cyclonus, it _might_ have been.

“It’s kinda rude to ask questions you already know the answers to, Rewind,” Tailgate argued, waggling a digit at Rewind for the transgression. “What’re we supposed to say? You’re the one with the script.”

“I’m saying nothing,” Rewind said, pushing out two data drives from his reserves and handing them very purposefully to Cyclonus and Tailgate. “In less than three minutes I put these together just from my random footage over the years. Because neither of you are going to talk, so I’m just going to show you what everyone _else_ already sees.”

For a moment, the purple mech didn’t do anything, staring at the drives in complete horror as Tailgate grabbed his own. 

“Rewind, I don’t understand what you’re doing. Or why you’d do that?” Tailgate muttered as he grabbed the drive and without even thinking inserted it. 

That blind faith was enough to force Cyclonus to do the same. 

“I edit footage when I need something to keep my mind off… well, _things,”_ Rewind sighed. He shoved off the berth as he noticed that Ratchet was heading their way. “And take it from somebot who learned a tough lesson recently: sometimes even the stuff you think you _don’t_ need to say, is better off being said all the same.”

The clueless bots were still staring at each other, even though there was no doubt in Rewind’s processor that they were getting the full view of everything from the data drives. It wouldn’t have made much difference _what_ Rewind said to them. 

But in that moment, Rewind knew that whatever Ratchet was getting ready to say to him _did_ make all the difference in all the worlds. 

“Rewind,” Ratchet said, voice more than a little scratchy and tired. “Velocity – for _some_ reason – thinks I’m incapable of delivering news so I have her soldering the cuts we made as scut work. Show her a thing or two.”

Not even willing to listen to the nonsense, Rewind clutched his servos together and looked weakly at Ratchet. “Chromedome? Is everything…?”

“He’ll be fine, but he officially can’t perform mnemosurgery anymore. Doctor’s orders,” Ratchet said gravely.

“Good,” Rewind let slip out almost despite himself. “But is he… Is he going to be alright? I mean, everything else is okay?”

“Fully functional,” Ratchet replied with a curt nod. “He’s awake right now and asking for you.”

Relief flowed through Rewind’s circuits. He clutched at his chest and heaved with an exvent shakily. 

Ratchet awkwardly shifted, looking like he didn’t know what to do before reaching for Rewind. “Are you alright there?”

“Thank you, Ratchet!” Rewind’s vocalizer squeezed out. He grabbed the doctor’s servo and shook it furiously. “Thank you so much!”

“Careful, I don’t have any others to put on loan,” he joked. “But, in all seriousness, Rewind… how did I deliver that? Alright? Excellent? Just good?”

“You’re the best,” Rewind told him enthusiastically before taking off toward the berth where Chromedome was sitting upright and speaking with Velocity in quiet tones. 

As Rewind approached, Chromedome’s golden optics turned to meet him almost immediately. They rimmed with something overwhelming – some emotion that was too big for words. 

“Rewind,” Chromedome said, pulling away from Velocity as she finished the mend to his limb.

“Domey,” Rewind said back.

In less than a sparkbeat, Rewind climbed over the foot of Chromedome’s berth and sat himself at his conjunx’s hip. His arms were wrapped tightly around the other’s waist and holding him down as if he was scared to let go. 

Chromedome pulled his arm free from Velocity’s gentle care and wrapped around Rewind as well, rocking them both a bit with the motion. 

There weren’t words. But Rewind needed there to be – he was so bad for not saying these things enough.

“I love you so much,” Rewind said, his vocalizer fuzzy. 

“I love you, too,” Domey said back, because he still just didn’t get it.

Pulling reluctantly from their embrace, Rewind shook his head. “No, no, Domey. I love you _so much_ and you have no idea – you _had_ no idea that you… You are my _world_ , and the fact that you thought there could ever be a _me_ without a _you_  burns my spark.”

Shoulders dropping, Chromedome’s head tilted back. “This is about… about Dom–”

“No, it’s really not,” Rewind said, standing on the berth so he could put his hands on Chromedome’s shoulders. “It’s about us. It’s about me, and you, and how that’s the only way I could ever let it be, Domey. Because I love you. _You_. And I will spend the rest of my life, every pulse of my spark, showing you just how much I need you. Okay? I will never let you forget it again. Because I did, I did and I almost lost you because of it. And that is _not_ okay.”

Before his conjunx could react, Rewind threw himself into another hug around Chromedome’s chest and shuttered his optics. 

“We all sometimes need help seeing the obvious things,” Rewind reminded Chromedome quietly, only turning on his optics long enough to see the embrace of another pair across the medbay. “And that’s _my_ job.”


End file.
